


A Moment of Solitude

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, M/M, Masturbation, Tenderness, Voyeurism, handjobs, post-shark date, season 3 fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 16:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11406384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: Flint comes across Silver during a private moment.





	A Moment of Solitude

In retrospect when he thinks about it, Flint’s surprised he doesn’t come across more of the crew masturbating. It would be highly unlikely if they’re all abstaining; he knows full well they’re doing no such thing. As for Silver, well, if Flint thinks about it, not that he has, he seems a likely candidate. Flint could easily picture finding him rutting into his fist while on duty late at night, or down in the galley when he’s supposed to be peeling potatoes or doing some other task Randall set for him. It’s absurdly easy to imagine. Silver’s surprise at being found out and then some silken excuse about, “needs” and “necessity” and “haven’t you just ached for it so badly, Captain, that you couldn’t wait any longer?”

This is not how Flint would have expected it to go. 

Silver had wandered away from the crew on the beach. Flint had half kept one eye on him. Ever since that confession, he’s still expecting something more, something else from Silver even if he doesn’t quite know what. At first he had assumed Silver had gone into the brush to relieve himself, but as time passes and he doesn’t come back straight off, Flint goes after him. 

Now that he’s found Silver he doesn’t know what to do.

Relief is one word for what Silver’s doing.

He’s sitting on the slope of a dune, good leg braced in the sand, steadying himself. His breeches are open and his right hand is very much occupied in the stroking of his cock, which is jutting out bold and eager in the sunlight.

Flint can’t take his eyes off it. Whether because it’s been so long since he took pleasure in another man’s body, or because it’s Silver, he’s not sure.

Silver’s cock fits his hand well, the length of it is pleasing to the eye, from the base nestled in the dark curls there at his groin, to the flushed head that Silver keeps rubbing his thumb over, teasing his slit. 

Silver’s taking his time, not particularly slow, but he’s certainly not moving like a man in a rush either. He’s got his eyes half closed, more in concentration than anything else, like he’s trying to shut out the world and having difficulty. His breath catches and he tilts his head back to the sun and it’s been so long since Flint’s really seen him in the open like this. If he’s ever seen Silver like this at all.

They’ve been dancing around each other ever since Silver’s confession on the open waves. Flint doesn’t know what to make of his lack of response to that, except…what does it matter now? Now they have to survive. Now he needs Silver too much to care. The gold is in the past and he never thought he’d fucking say that, but it is.

He stands there, silently watching, as Silver’s hand moves slowly over his own cock, one stroke at a time. He knows his own rhythm certainly.

There’s a shout from the beach, just one of the men calling to another, but Flint turns sharply to see where it’s coming from, and Silver’s head jerks up.

He catches sight of Flint standing there and freezes. His hand pauses sharply, cock still throbbing between his fingers, like it doesn’t know whether to wilt or keep going with Flint’s gaze upon it.

Silver glares at him with narrowed eyes. “What the fuck are you looking at?”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.” Flint responds automatically, and then wishes he could take the words back. It  _is_  something new like this, to see Silver like this.  “Although not quite like this…”

“Well, now you’ve seen it, so fuck off and go find something new to stare at.” Silver hunches over a little, like he’s waiting for Flint to leave before he continues.

And obviously that’s the civilized thing to do, leave the man to his aroused cock and go. But Flint hasn’t felt civilized in years; it’s not remotely one of the words he attaches to himself these days.

Instead he takes a step closer to Silver. “You left the beach.”

“Can’t a man get some goddamn privacy just for a little while?” Silver groans. He’s just resting his hand patiently over his cock. Is he simply going to take up where he left off the moment Flint’s got his back turned?

Flint’s half tempted to leave and see if that’s the case. He shrugs at Silver and makes as though to head off again. “Is this what you do when you get privacy?”

“I wouldn’t know.” Silver sounds bitter. “I haven’t had any for a while.”

At that Flint halts and turns back around. “What’re you saying?” Silver can’t mean what he thinks he means. He can’t not have touched himself once since he lost his leg. That’s impossible. Surely it’s impossible.

Silver presses his lips together briefly like he regrets saying that much. His hand has fallen away from his cock, and it’s flushed and swollen between his thighs, desperate and dripping and irresistible.

Silver glances up at him and then away as he sees where Flint’s gaze rests. His thighs press closer together, but he makes no move to cover himself.  

Flint studies him and realizes his original assumption was correct. “You haven’t gotten off since your leg…”

“You’re no stranger to abstinence, captain.” Silver sneers at him and Flint flinches. “If anything that’s a true sign I won’t shrivel up and die from lack of it.”

He should go and leave Silver to it, but at the same time, Flint  _knows_  what Silver is doing here. He  _knows_  Silver’s pushing him away and he knows how that ends.

He walks closer and sinks into the sand beside Silver.

Silver just looks at him oddly. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“You’re going to get sunburned.” Flint says almost conversationally.

“I’ve been out in the sun for days,” Silver start to say, and then his words fall away as Flint reaches over and places his palm on Silver’s cock.

“ _This_  is going to get sunburned.” Flint’s voice is soft.

Silver shoots him a look. “I repeat. What are you doing?”

“Out there on the water, when you confessed to me.”

Silver tenses under his hand. If this is Flint’s moment for revenge, he has Silver when he’s vulnerable now. He could crush Silver and leave him more mangled and helpless than before. Silver doesn’t move, watching time pass in the hourglass of Flint’s eye, the steady tic of his jaw.

He waits.

Flint shakes his head. “Another day, another time, I would have killed you for that confession.”

“Believe me, I am well aware of that.” Silver whispers in a shaky breath. “So now what?”

“Now.” Flint presses his palm harder over his cock, watching Silver hiss slightly. “You are far too useful to kill.” Useful is one word to describe Silver. Flint can think of others but he keeps them to himself.

“Are you saying you need me?” Silver asks.

“I think we have need of each other.” Flint presses his thumb along the curve of Silver’s cock and watches him try not to relax into his touch.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“What kind of question is that?” Silver manages. “If you’re not going to kill me, you could at least give me some relief.”

Flint’s grin is sharp and unexpected. He spits on his palm and takes Silver more firmly in hand. “You seriously haven’t done this since…”

“Enough.” Silver groans. “What do you think?”

“I think you had a lot of time while you were refusing to come out of my cabin and that getting off is as good a way to pass it as any.” Flint finds it hard to believe Silver would have wasted such an opportunity to get off in relative quiet comfort, compared to everywhere else aboard ship, but then he thinks back to how Silver was in those very early days and, no, he doesn’t really find it hard to believe after all.

Silver lets out a snort. “And what would you have done if you had caught me doing that in your cabin?”

“Something like this, perhaps.” Flint lets his words trail carelessly over Silver as his fingers work more purposefully. He’s forgotten the pleasure of touching another’s flesh, the heat in Silver’s cock is mesmerizing. Another day he might have put his mouth upon him instead, sucking softly at Silver’s tender balls until he’s too overwhelmed and can’t hold back, spilling all over Flint’s face.

For now this is good. He hadn’t expected to find Silver like this when he followed him into the brush, but he can’t say he regrets it now.

“You would not.” Silver sounds sure and Flint tilts his head, watching him as his fist moves in lazy, coaxing strokes.

“Is that right?”

“You would have kicked me out of your cabin for daring to soil your precious window seat with my come.” Silver licks his lips. He’s still so thin. And his hair….

Flint wants to free it. It hasn’t been freed in so long. He can’t resist and he reaches for Silver’s tie.

Silver watches him silently and then as Flint’s hand slips behind his head, he turns slightly, “What’re…”

Flint snags the tie and pulls it loose, half surprised by his own bravery.

Silver’s hair falls around his face and he stares at Flint.

Flint slides his hand all the way down Silver’s shaft and up again, then down to the weeping tip. He curves his fist even closer, proving a tight channel for Silver’s cock to thrust into.

Silver’s breath comes quicker now in hot pants and Flint can’t resist. He leans in and licks a fine line of sweat from his neck.

Silver’s hips jerk into his fist as he lets out a low startled cry, and then he’s spilling fast and warm over Flint’s hand. Flint just keeps stroking him, pumping him slowly until he’s completely wrung out.

Silver drops his head back, and stares up at him with clouded eyes.

The taste of Silver’s skin fairly burns upon his tongue. Flint wonders what it would be like to taste Silver everywhere.

“Again?” Silver whispers and Flint chuckles.


End file.
